Mafia Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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His Mafia Princess's Revenge
My husband, Don Lorenzo Bianchi, the man who once took ninety-nine lashes for me, had just locked me in a guest room. I was four months pregnant with our child, the heir to his mafia empire. My crime was throwing a glass of wine on his mistress, a woman he had moved into our home. She cornered me in the garden, gloating that once the baby was born, he would give it to her to raise as her own. Later, she shoved me down the grand staircase, then threw herself down after me, screaming to my husband that I had tried to kill her. As I lay in a pool of my own blood, Lorenzo rushed past me, scooping her into his arms and carrying her away without a single backward glance. To force me to apologize, he had my parents brought to my hospital room and brutally whipped until they collapsed at his feet. He was no longer the man who had 999 crystals sewn into my wedding dress. He was a monster who believed every lie she told and punished me for her crimes. How could the man who swore to love me forever become this cruel stranger? But he didn't know the truth. Days before the fall, I had secretly terminated the pregnancy. I took the urn containing our child's ashes, filed for divorce, and disappeared from his world forever./1/101761/coverorgin.jpg?v=8291f2f6055e37e8fd2dcd39b737a288&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever
I carried the first word I had spoken in ten years like a sacred offering, ready to surprise the man who had saved my life. But through the crack in the study door, I heard Josiah tell his Underboss that I was nothing but a noose around his neck. "Grace is a burden," he said, his voice cold. "I can't become Don while babysitting a mute ghost. Lexi brings power. Grace brings nothing but silence." He chose to marry the Mafia Princess for her father's trade routes, dismissing me as wreckage. But the true betrayal didn't happen in that office. It happened in the woods during an ambush. With bullets flying and the mud sliding beneath us into a ravine, Josiah had to make a choice. I was injured, trapped at the bottom. Lexi was screaming on the ridge. He looked at me, mouthed "I'm sorry," and turned his back. He hauled Lexi to safety to secure his alliance. He left me to die alone in the freezing mud. I lay there in the dark, realizing the man who swore a blood oath to protect me had traded my life for a political seat. He thought the silence would finally swallow me whole. He was wrong. I crawled out of that grave and vanished from his world completely. Three years later, I returned to the city, not as his broken ward, but as a world-renowned artist. When Josiah showed up at my gallery, looking shattered and begging for forgiveness, I didn't sign. I looked him dead in the eye and spoke. "The girl who loved you died in that ravine, Josiah."/1/121877/coverorgin.jpg?v=21f59661493a5a8187c4ba4ab64bc94c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Kiss Me While The World Burns
Victoria De Luca rules New York's criminal underworld with an iron fist until a stolen EMP weapon, a decades-old murder, and a betrayal buried in blood threaten to destroy everything she built. Giordano Salvatore was supposed to be a pawn. Instead, the billionaire weapons genius becomes the one man capable of unraveling her carefully guarded heart. As enemies close in, secrets surface, and a global hunt spirals into chaos, Victoria discovers that the greatest threat isn't the governments, syndicates, or assassins hunting her. It's her own family. With a stolen superweapon, a deadly conspiracy, and a love powerful enough to burn the world to ashes, Victoria and Giordano must decide what they're willing to sacrifice-before everything explodes. Because in a world built on lies, falling in love might be the most dangerous mistake of all. Genre: Dark Mafia Romance | Romantic Suspense | Crime Thriller Tropes/Tags: Mafia Queen • Obsessive Hero • Billionaire Arms Dealer • Secret Pregnancy • Touch Her and Die • Criminal Empire • Family Secrets • Twin Reveal • Power Couple • High Stakes Romance • Who Did This To You • Morally Grey Characters • Global Conspiracy • Enemies to Lovers-ish • Dark Romance Thriller/0/97868/coverorgin.jpg?v=0d5e05e1f2cb5b6da199f0e4a9c2db9f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Zero Score: My Escape from the Mafia Don
For three years, I was the wife of Don Dante Moretti. But our marriage was a transaction, and my heart was the price. I kept a ledger, deducting points for every time he chose her—his first love, Isabella—over me. When the score reached zero, I would be free. After he abandoned me on a roadside to rush to Isabella's side, I was hit by a car. I woke up in the ER, bleeding, only to hear a nurse shout that I was two months pregnant. A tiny, impossible hope flared in my chest. But as the doctors scrambled to save me, they patched my husband through on speakerphone. His voice was cold and absolute. “Isabella’s condition is critical,” he ordered. “Not one drop of the reserve blood is to be touched until she is safe. I don't care who else needs it.” I lost the baby. Our child, sacrificed by its own father. I later learned Isabella had only suffered a minor cut. The blood was just a “precautionary measure.” The tiny flicker of hope was extinguished, and something inside me snapped, clean and final. The debt was paid. Alone in the silence, I made the last entry in my ledger, bringing the score to zero. I signed the divorce papers I had already prepared, left them on his desk, and walked out of his life forever./0/97870/coverorgin.jpg?v=86b30456d44b9cefed6104945c3f6ed4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival
For eight years, I was raised to be his queen. My entire world was built on the promise that I would marry Dante Moretti, the future Don of the city's most powerful family. But on the eve of our betrothal, I overheard his plan. He was going to cast me aside for another woman, Isabella, and a street orphan he would pass off as his heir. He publicly humiliated me at his party, introducing her as his true queen. When a crystal chandelier fell from the ceiling, he used his own body to shield her, leaving me to be crushed beneath it. Later, after falsely accusing me of attacking her, he shoved my head under the freezing water of a pool, hissing that my love for him was "disgusting." But the truth that finally destroyed me was worse. For ten years, Dante had been obsessed with a scent he thought was mine. It was all a lie—a custom perfume Isabella had been wearing all along. I was never the one he wanted; I was just a case of mistaken identity. After he broke my bones and shattered my spirit, I finally made a choice. I accepted my brother's offer to escape to the rival Falcone territory. As our jet prepared for takeoff, I blocked Dante's frantic calls without looking back. This time, I was leaving for good./0/79377/coverorgin.jpg?v=8313f44137e0f68d4479755aada00ef3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Wanted: A mafia story
"You will not call me dear. You will take that money and give me my freedom like we both agreed, Mateo Morales," Jasmine bellowed. Mateo dropped the spoon on the tray, drank some water to clear the aftertaste, reached for the bag of money zipping it close and shoving it firmly into her hand. "Unfortunately, that is an impossible thing to wish for my love. Not now that you will become my wife in just three days time and then we have our baby nine months later..." "I'd rather die before that happens!" Jasmine Salvatore soon realizes that she is trapped in a nightmare following an agreement with a mafia boss one night at an auction ground. Her father Salvatore had been wanted by the Mafia boss because he believed he was responsible for his father's assassination. Mateo Morales, a brutal mafia boss will do everything to seek revenge on his father's murderer, but will his thirst for revenge be quenched by using Salvatore's daughter as a pawn for his revenge game or will his emerging obsession over the enchanting beauty be the end of it?/1/101764/coverorgin.jpg?v=42c296872c6d8656e7c076e1d249a60f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Killed Returns To Destroy Him
I stood center stage in a wedding dress worth more than a small country, waiting for my final fitting. For seven years, I had trained to be the perfect mafia wife for Ethan, the future Don. Then the door slammed open. Ethan’s underboss walked in, hand on his gun, looking at me with zero respect. "The wedding is off," he said. "Ethan had an accident. He lost his memory. He doesn't remember the pact, and he doesn't remember you." Desperate, I drove to his private villa to help him remember. But I didn't find a confused patient. I found Ethan lounging on a sofa with a model on his lap, his hand sliding up her thigh. When he saw me, his eyes weren't blank; they were cold and annoyed. He hadn't lost his memory. He just wanted to void the contract without a war. To get rid of me, he ordered a hit. My car was rammed off a cliff that night. As I hung upside down in the wreckage, bleeding and broken, I heard his voice outside. "Make it look like a drunk driving accident," he told his men. "I don't want any loose ends." He walked away, leaving me to die in the rain. But he made one fatal mistake. He didn't check if my heart had stopped. They buried an empty coffin, and Ava Miller officially died. Two weeks later, a woman named Olivia Carter opened an investment firm across the street from his tower. I remember everything, Ethan. And I’m going to burn your empire to the ground./0/97871/coverorgin.jpg?v=f5195f1fa0c8b6c1f11fd00dd0d3e768&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Revenge for Mom: Destroying His Mafia World
My fiancé, the Underboss of the DeLuca Crime Family, promised he would burn the world down for me. But when my mother was dying in the hospital, he chose a ski trip with another woman. It was that woman's dog that attacked my mother, but when I called him, shaking, he was annoyed. He was in Aspen with Isabella, and I could hear her laughing in the background. He dismissed my mother's injuries as a "minor scrape" and told me not to "make a big deal out of this." While my mother's fever spiked, he ignored my desperate pleas. Instead, my phone lit up with an Instagram post of him and Isabella smiling by a fireplace, sipping hot chocolate. My mother slipped into septic shock. That picture was a public declaration, a judgment on my mother's worth, and my own. A cold fury burned away every last bit of love I had for him. She died at 3:17 a.m. I held her hand until it was cold, then walked out of the hospital and called the one number I was never supposed to use—the number for my father. "She's dead," I said. "I'm coming to Chicago. I'm leaving this life, and I'm going to burn his world to the ground."/0/97872/coverorgin.jpg?v=5dddeb9cf2505f5fc7743505b2424764&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unmasking My Mafia Fiancé
My fiancé, a mafia Capo, promised the painkillers would help after the "car crash." It was a lie. The real accident was his temper, and I was his favorite punching bag. In a medicated haze, I overheard the truth. He was on the phone with his consigliere, boasting about stealing my billion-dollar casino blueprint. He was going to use it to become Underboss. He planned to propose, then use our world's code of silence to legally gag me from ever claiming my own work. His mistress, Olivia, would be the public face of the project. The worst part was the truth about my miscarriage. It wasn't an accident. He and Olivia had orchestrated it, calling our baby a "complication" that would kill his ambition. At a party, he proved it all. After shoving me to the ground in front of everyone, he walked away with her, leaving me in a heap of humiliation. The love I had for him didn't just die; it turned into a cold, hard certainty. He had taken my work, my child, and my dignity. So I sent him one last email: a file containing proof of every lie, every betrayal, and a video of his abuse. The subject line read: "My Wedding Gift." Then I boarded a one-way flight to New York to partner with the one man he truly feared. This wasn't a breakup. It was war./1/118637/coverorgin.jpg?v=81f32824c4d11d52af6c7ee6372c769c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Child She Lost,The Crown She Won
I surrendered my mafia inheritance and let my father exile me just to marry Silas. He was a broken soldier who knelt in the rain, claiming he gave up his territory to save me from a forced marriage. But when I went to surprise him with my pregnancy ultrasound, I overheard him laughing with the reigning Don I was supposed to marry. His downfall was a fake, a ploy so his mistress could seamlessly take my place. When I confronted them, his mistress pushed me onto the wet concrete. I woke up in the underground clinic, agonizing in pain, as Silas handed me a crushed pill. He told me the fall caused catastrophic tearing and the baby wouldn't survive, weeping as he claimed he had to abort it to save my life. But days later, his mistress walked into my room with white lilies. She smiled and told me Silas deliberately sacrificed our child to keep my blood clean for her rare illness transfusions. He murdered our baby just to ensure his mistress had no parasitic competition. Yet, he still held my hand every day, playing the devoted, grieving husband with flawless, sickening perfection. The full scope of his betrayal didn't bring tears, but a ringing in my ears that awakened the dormant code of Vendetta in my blood. I picked up the phone to call my ruthless father. "I will give you absolute supremacy, Papa." This time, I would swallow their territories whole and ascend the throne alone./0/97873/coverorgin.jpg?v=a52ff7df97d09942d4515750a987124b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Don's Betrayal, My Unstoppable Rise
For seven years, I was the perfect, silent wife to Dante De Luca, the Don of the Chicago Outfit. Our marriage was a contract, signed only because his true love, Isabella, left him at the altar. Then, she came back. He made me watch as he chose her, again and again. He took her into a dark closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven, emerging with a fresh love bite on her neck. Then, she framed me for stealing her diamond necklace. "She's a thief, Dante, just like her mother!" Isabella wailed. My husband didn't hesitate. He shoved me against a table and had his men throw me into the family's private holding cell. He knew it was a setup, but he still called me trash, not fit to clean her shoes. I finally understood. I was never his wife. I was just a "low-cost placeholder," a body in his bed until Isabella returned. I was disposable. So when I was finally released, I walked away. His biggest rival was waiting for me with a job offer: Chief Design Director. I would compete against Dante for the city's biggest contract, using the very architectural designs he stole from me and gave to his mistress. I would build an empire on the ashes of his pride./0/69646/coverorgin.jpg?v=3112c57c9acfda38d8fa1a740e5aead0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
On Your Knees, Don
"You are a cold-blooded psycho! Get your filthy, bloodstained hands off me!" Through clenched teeth, Irma shrieked as she battled to liberate herself from the man's barbarous hold. His eyes were a refulgent inferno. They held an insidious fire of lust as they thrived deeper into her debilitated ones. "How flattering!" The man sneered, and Irma froze. A ripple of both ice and fire skint in her nerves at the man's vexatious riposte. Before she could amass any little bravery left in her, the man spoke again in a hoarse tremor, erupting a chill down her spinal tube. "But if you don't watch your sweet, dirty mouth, you snoopy, pesky brat, my third leg will shut it for you! Or maybe," he wavered, and fixed his dangerous, lascivious gazes on hers, gently stroking her hair as if petting his sweet, wild pet, "that is what you want, little dove?" A freelance journalist, flaming with ardent desires to unveil the secrets behind the series of mysterious disappearances happening in the city. Her hunch points her to the dark underworld of the mafia, and unfortunately, she crashes into LUCCA DE'MATTHEW-the other name for terror! Their encounter will evoke a catastrophe that only they can solve. But how, if their mere beingness is a menace to each other?/1/118638/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4dffa002f7b88e4e9598bc721c8fb66&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Fake Lunatic: I Played Crazy To Bury My Brother
For three years, I was locked inside a mafia black site, enduring daily electroshock therapy and forced chemical cocktails. I truly believed I was losing my mind, until my fingers brushed against a hidden wiretap taped beneath the treatment table. The recorded voices belonged to my husband and my biological brother. "Turn her into a mindless vegetable before Friday, so I can legally seize her proxy votes." It turned out I was never sick. My late father, the legendary Don, had left me a controlling stake in the syndicate, locked in an offshore trust that would thaw in exactly seven days. To steal my inheritance, the two men I trusted most conspired to fry my brain into a wet pulp. My husband even let his secret mistress parade through the asylum, mocking my emaciated, scar-covered body. They dragged me back to the family estate, starving me in a damp storage room and threatening to bring the shock machines to my bedroom if I didn't sign over the territories. Every time I had fought back over the years, they used my agony as irrefutable proof of my insanity, strapping me down tighter and turning the dial higher. They didn't want to cure me; they wanted to completely erase me. But my father had foreseen their bottomless greed and built an untouchable legal fortress for me. Looking at the jagged date branded into my wrist, I knew exactly what I had to do. I dropped to my knees, slapped my own face hard, and played the perfect, broken lunatic. I just had to survive the next seven days, and then I would take back my throne and bury them all./0/97874/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1732d1c9ccfc5d8cb63a63faa9a23da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Mafia Princess's Fall, Cartel Queen's Rise
The man I was about to marry was going to kill my father. I just didn't know it yet. I thought my wedding to the ruthless Don, Dante De Luca, was a love match that would finally bring peace between our warring families. But at the altar, instead of a ring, he revealed our engagement was a lie. It was a long con to avenge his aunt—my own mother—whom my senator father had secretly murdered. Then he shot my father dead in front of me. I was wounded trying to stop him and woke up his prisoner. The man I loved told me our entire relationship was just "business." He abandoned me to his new partner, a woman named Isabella, who made it clear I was nothing more than a loose end. He cut off all contact, erasing me completely, leaving me alone as the tainted daughter of a dead drug lord they called 'The Scorpion.' My whole life was a lie. My mother had been a spy for the enemy family she married into. My father was a monster. And Dante, my fiancé—my own cousin—had meticulously used my love to destroy everything I had ever known. So I let Alessia Gallo die. I disappeared and became Alma, a ghost in the cartel underworld, determined to finish the mission my mother started. Years later, he walked into my cantina, a man on a mission. He didn't recognize the hardened woman I'd become, and this time, he was the one walking into my trap./1/116368/coverorgin.jpg?v=0279160fe162183d314ca27cdc120312&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Erased Wife's Spectacular Wedding Revenge
My wedding was perfect. Every rose. Every note of music. Every lie. I married Alessandro Moretti believing I was the heroine of a love story. The heir to the most feared family on the West Coast had chosen me—a wedding planner from nowhere—over duty, over blood, over the Rossetti princess his mother had already picked for him. I thought that meant he loved me. I was wrong. The text came through on our wedding night. From her. Gianna Rossetti. "Now that the wedding's over, when do I finally get you to myself?" Three days later, Alex looked me in the eye from a hospital bed and asked, "I'm sorry... who are you?" Fake amnesia. A staged accident. His mother, his mistress, and the family doctor—all in on it. They wanted me to walk away quietly. What I didn't know then was that walking away quietly was the kindest option on the table. The other one involved a car accident on a winding road and a funeral no one would question. Then Don Moretti's man handed me an envelope of cash on the sidewalk outside the apartment I no longer had a key to. "Start over somewhere comfortable," he said. "Far from San Francisco." I took the money. I didn't leave. I'm going to plan their wedding now. Gianna and Alex. The princess and the heir. And when I'm done, every chandelier, every centerpiece, every last napkin will be a monument to the worst mistake the Moretti family ever made. They thought they were giving me an exit. I'm building them a cage./1/117343/coverorgin.jpg?v=671e27857471312887d2235f007ca79d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Caged by the Capo, Broken by My First Love
I was forced to marry the most ruthless Capo in New York to save my family from a blood execution. For two years, I endured his psychotic jealousy as he paraded a mistress around the city—not because he wanted her, but because he knew she was connected to my past. When I finally handed him the divorce papers, I discovered a sickening truth. The mistress was the half-sister of my mob lawyer—the same lawyer who happened to be my first love. "I stayed close to try to save you both!" Julian confessed, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. "I thought I could pull her out and break your marriage at the same time!" He claimed his twisted plan was to rescue me. Instead, it pushed his desperate sister to the brink of madness. She lunged at me in my own bedroom, driving a six-inch blade into my side. "You hold the crown and you don't even want it!" she screamed. "I would kill for someone to look at me the way he looks at you!" As I lay bleeding out on the mattress, my husband and my first love fought over me, both screaming my name. I had broken my own heart years ago to save Julian from this violent underworld. I didn't understand why my sacrifice only turned him into a manipulative monster, just like my husband. Why did their twisted versions of love only bring me scars and blood? Waking up in the hospital, I looked at the two men desperately offering me blood-soaked thrones. I calmly signed the dissolution papers, took ten percent of the clean assets, and walked away. This time, I was done being a queen on any man's board./1/116370/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf322c4b942f76e016e168abe615c038&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Shattered Fiancée Returns As A Queen
The night before my alliance ceremony to Don Vincenzo Moretti, I discovered that my hands had been destroyed on purpose. I was in our bedroom, the heavy silence of the compound pressing against the windows, when Vince's phone buzzed on the nightstand. He was in the shower. The screen lit up with a message from Gianna Rossi: *"The cream worked perfectly. She'll never authenticate again. The Cartelli elders will have no choice but to accept me. You owe me, Vince. Don't forget what the Rossi family knows about 2011."* I read it four times. Then I took a photograph of the screen with my own phone. When Vince emerged from the bathroom, towel around his waist, I was sitting in the armchair by the window, my bandaged hands folded in my lap, my face arranged into the placid mask I had perfected over five years in this house. "Tired?" he asked, not really looking at me. "Just thinking about tomorrow," I said. My voice was steady. I had learned to make it steady. He nodded, already bored with the conversation, and turned off the light. I lay awake in the darkness beside him, cataloguing everything I knew. The offshore accounts. The FBI agents on the Moretti payroll. The body of the man who'd crossed Vince in 2013, buried under a construction site in Jersey. Five years of secrets, and I had just been given the one piece I was missing: proof that Gianna Rossi and Vincenzo Moretti had conspired to destroy me. I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. I began to plan. The burns on my hands were permanent. The Cartelli pipeline was collapsing. The Moretti family was about to cast me aside like a broken tool. But I had something they didn't know about: a photographic memory for numbers, five years of unrestricted access to Vince's private files, and a patience they had mistaken for weakness. I was the best blood diamond authenticator on the East Coast. But that was never my real talent. My real talent was surviving among predators while they mistook my stillness for submission. Tomorrow, I was supposed to become Carmela Moretti, the don's wife, the silent ornament at the head of the table. Instead, I was going to become the woman who brought down the Moretti empire from the inside. I just needed to stay alive long enough to do it./1/104691/coverorgin.jpg?v=7b282d568cd3baf03dc29f4ecb82f2ca&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pregnant And Running From The Mafia Don
For five years, my husband kept me in a dog cage because he believed I murdered his fiancée, my stepsister Kinsley. He stripped me of my dignity, my name, and my humanity, all to avenge a woman who wasn't even dead. When Kinsley finally returned, alive and smiling, I thought my nightmare was over. Instead, she framed me again. Right in front of Courtland, she pushed my little brother down the stone steps of the estate. I held my brother's broken body in the rain, screaming for help. But Courtland just stood there, shielding Kinsley under his umbrella, looking at me with cold indifference. He chose the monster over his wife. That night, I realized love wasn't enough to save me. So, I stood on the edge of the hospital roof and let gravity take me. I wanted him to mourn. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to burn. Three years later, at a gala in New York, the Ice King dropped his champagne glass. He stared at me—the woman in the red dress, the fiancée of his rival. I looked him dead in the eye and smiled like a stranger. He cornered me later, his voice trembling with rage and obsession. "Death is the only divorce in my world, Anastasia. And you are still very much alive."/1/102096/coverorgin.jpg?v=a610cfeb09f6f55cdbf94f9eb07398c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Pampered By The Rival Mafia Boss
Ten years ago, I saved the life of New York’s most dangerous mob boss with a sewing kit. I gave Ethan Reed my youth, my loyalty, and my heart. But the moment his ex-girlfriend Chloe returned, I became disposable. It didn't matter that she had abandoned him. It didn't matter that she poisoned me, killing the unborn child Ethan didn't even know we had. When Chloe needed a kidney transplant due to her drug abuse, Ethan didn't protect me. He strapped me to a gurney. "It's just one kidney, Ava. You owe me." He harvested my organ to save the woman who murdered his heir. And when he was done, he decided I was a loose end. He dragged me to the edge of a bridge in the pouring rain. "This is how it ends," he said, his eyes devoid of love. "A tragic suicide." He pushed me into the freezing water, watching me drown to secure his happy ending. He thought I was dead. He thought the canary had sung its last song. But he forgot one thing. I was the chemist who built his empire. When his greatest rival pulled me out of the river, I didn't pray for salvation. I prayed for revenge. Three months later, I walked into his charity gala on the arm of his enemy, wearing a white suit and a smile sharp enough to cut glass. Ethan dropped to his knees when he saw me. But I wasn't there to forgive him. I was there to burn his house down./1/104692/coverorgin.jpg?v=083570d5f9a1f7e7f02292cb201d4a74&imageMogr2/format/webp)
